


Let me take care of you

by kiranightshade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter, Alternate Season/Series 01, Bottom Peter, Car Sex, Garage scene, Incubus!stiles, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 22:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9406625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/pseuds/kiranightshade
Summary: Stiles presents as an incubus about a month before the end of season one, but with everything going on, he forgot he doesn't eat normal human food anymore. He hits his breaking point when there is only one person around who could possibly help him.Or, literally just porn. Stiles is an incubus. Peter saves him from starving. That's pretty much it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So...I may have spent the past four hours finishing this half written smut experiment I started a month ago. 
> 
> Never actually written smut before, so this is my first try at it. Keep in mind I'm also a female virgin, so...I did my best!

He’d never really thought it was real. His family was never particularly religious and Stiles himself stopped checking under his bed pretty early on. When Scott got bit and werewolves were suddenly a thing, Stiles was so busy trying to focus on not dying and keeping Scott from dying and keeping Scott from joining the dark side and keeping Scott from committing suicide via hunter princess but also remaining the supportive best friend who encouraged his bro’s first girlfriend that the stories his late grandmother told him faded into the background. 

 

Of course, none of that matters now. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s dying, or maybe not. Maybe losing control is more accurate a term for the agony he’s in. This frantic need that makes him wonder if this is what it’s like to be denied pregnancy cravings. Only, pregnant people don’t fear death via craving. At least, not logically. And pregnant people never have to fear what could happen if death isn’t on the table, but a fate so much worse. 

 

“Help me.” Stiles rasps, hand outstretched and shaking. His legs give out and suddenly Peter is right there. Purely on instinct, Stiles leans forward to mouth at the bulge that’s just so close but something stops him right before he makes contact. 

 

Stiles whines at the harsh tug Peter gives, forcing him to look up into the bewildered gaze of his kidnapper. Oh god, he really must be starving if he’s coming onto Peter Hale of all people. 

 

Shame, fear, and hunger all war for dominance as he slowly regains lucidity. Regardless, he can’t seem to remove his hands from where they are gripping Peter’s hips. 

 

More like he’s afraid of what he might do if he does. 

 

“Help you with what, my dear?” Peter leers, but even in this state Stiles can see through the façade. Can see the curiosity burning in his retinas and even worry too. But that must be Stiles’ imagination. 

 

“ ‘m starving.” He pleads, eyes flashing purple.

 

It was this coupled with a smooth black tail shimmering into corporeal form around Peter’s leg that had his eyes widening in realization.

 

He had never met an incubus before.

 

And certainly never one so young. Peter had researched them of course. He preferred to know at least a little about every subject. Especially if it meant he knew something Precious Talia didn’t, but that is neither here nor there.

 

Ignoring the pang such thoughts brought, Peter gentled his grip on the poor boy’s neck and knelt down to eye level. Cupping his cheeks, he wipes away the tears running down them and coos “Breathe dear heart. Everything’s going to be okay.”

 

“ ‘m scared.”

 

“Of what, sweet boy?” Peter asks, luring him into the crook of his neck with his arms wrapped tight around him.

 

“Don’ wanna hurt anyone.”

 

“A feeding alone won’t harm me.”

 

“Promise?” Stiles asks, as if he would shatter into splintered pieces if denied.

 

Peter allows Stiles to pull back- though his grip on Peter’s jacket never loosens- before declaring “I wouldn’t still be here if it would.”

 

Stiles nods to that, appeased “Okay. Okay, I just…”

 

“Stiles, have you ever fed before?”

 

“No.” he admits, both relieved and embarrassed- for what he couldn’t say. “I only presented a month ago and- “

 

“A month!” Peter exclaims. “Stiles, you should be feeding at least once every week. No wonder you’re in such bad shape. How did you even manage to go to school like this?”

 

“Hello, nice to meet you. I’m the most stubborn person you’ll ever meet. I’m still lucid aren’t I?” 

 

“Speaking of, don’t stress darling. This- “Peter presses Stiles’ hand to his erection- “is quite literally your element. Just follow your instincts and I’ll tell you if you’re doing anything wrong. Okay?”

 

“Right. Right. God, I can’t- thank you.”

 

Peter pulls him into a truly filthy kiss before he could embarrass himself further. Things deteriorate from there. Stiles loses himself in the taste of Peter. Ravenous, he grabs hold of Peter’s jacket and tugs him closer still, shoving his tongue down Peter’s own as far as he can and relishes in the mix of saliva. Peter cups the back of Stiles’ head in turn, sucking on Stiles’ tongue. Stiles moans and clings to Peter’s shoulders before frantically shoving both their jackets off and pushing Peter back. Peter grunts as his head hits the concrete and stops Stiles’ feral decent with both hands to his chest.

 

Stiles whines but Peter reassures him with “Let’s find somewhere a bit more comfortable, shall we?” 

 

Stiles doesn’t seem to understand, simply tries to paw at Peter’s chest instead of answering. Well, there goes any thoughts of a bed, Peter internally sighs. He settles for the back of the jeep because it has more room and-oh- he knew it, blankets. 

 

By the time he has Stiles laying on his back with two blankets underneath him, Stiles has managed to lose his shirt, tie, pants, and even undid Peter’s belt and half his shirt. Peter leaves Stiles to his work as he rids him of his boxers, leaving him bare. 

 

Stiles throws Peter’s shirt somewhere and attacks his neck with a mix of harsh bites and bruising kisses. Peter forces himself to relax at the sudden assault and climbs up and into the jeep, straddling Stiles’ thighs. For a long moment, he just lets himself enjoy the incubus’ attention. Because, even as a virgin, this beautiful boy is still a sex demon and has the instincts of one.

 

That doesn’t mean Peter won’t take it upon himself to teach him everything he knows.

 

Peter kicks off his shoes before pushing Stiles onto his back. Quickly, he removes his belt and shimmies out of his own jeans; only to lose his balance and end up on his side facing Stiles. Stiles wastes no time. Disposing of Peter’s jeans, he hones in on the erection just peeking over Peter’s boxers. Like a moth to a flame, Stiles mouths at the uncut head. Peter gasps and grabs hold of the back of Stiles’ head, silently cursing his choice in hairstyle. 

 

Peter’s boxers are damp and a suspiciously slick tail is creeping up his ankle by the time Peter gets frustrated and just rips the barrier to shreds. Stiles, overjoyed, doesn’t hesitate to take Peter right down to the base and swallow. 

 

Peter is having serious doubts this is Stiles’ first time because surely this can’t all be instinct.

 

But then Peter’s brain is getting sucked right out of him, so he doesn’t exactly dwell on it. Stiles can’t seem to decide just where to put his hands. They jump from place to place, unpredictable and exhilarating. 

 

Stiles is just starting to form a rhythm when Peter feels it. Breath heaving, and claws digging into the upholstery, Peter looks down to see a slick, black tail wrapped around his leg and prodding at his hole. At Peter’s whine, Stiles looks up. He follows Peter’s line of sight and promptly sits up in shock. Peter whines anew at the cold air hitting his exposed dick but Stiles ignores him in favor of taking hold of his tail…that he has. 

 

It’s slippery to the touch, and Stiles has to drop it twice before successfully holding it out in front of him in scrutiny. 

 

The slick coats his hand and Stiles’ eyes widen in realization. Grinning, Stiles gathers a generous amount of the natural lube and drops the tail. At Peter’s impatient glare, Stiles gives no warning before thrusting a single finger into his hole. Peter grunts in discomfort, but spreads his legs further. Stiles, of course, hones in on it immediately. As he waits for Peter to relax, he slides his other hand up the inside of Peter’s thigh. He stops just shy of Peter’s dick and make his way down to his knee. Rinse and repeat until Peter’s got three fingers stretching him open with every intention of making him admit what he wants.

 

Peter doesn’t think it should be this difficult to get a starving incubus’ dick in him. He grits his teeth and tell Stiles so.

 

Stiles simply laughs. It is far from a human laugh. It is the laugh befitting the creature of pure temptation Stiles has always been.

 

Stiles takes in a deep breath and sighs, something wholly satisfied in him when his eyes shine purple and stay that way.

 

Peter sighs as Stiles finally replaces his fingers with his dick. Stiles is fully rooted to the base in one unforgiving thrust that has Peter roaring in the same breath that he thrusts back. 

 

From there, they are an indistinguishable blend of limbs and teeth and various noises from both parties. 

 

They don’t last long after that. A number of factors work against them. Stiles is still a teenaged virgin and Peter has been celibate for near seven years, not to mention Peter has been on edge since they started.

 

Peter isn’t sure who comes first. All he is sure of is that Stiles gets a look of pure, unadulterated bliss when come smears between them. He is sure that Stiles’ eyes shine impossibly brighter as every point of contact tingles over Peter’s skin. He is sure the drowsiness Peter feels isn’t natural and has everything to do with the newly energized grin Stiles is bestowing upon him.

 

Peter gives a breathless smile of his own and cups Stiles’ cheek. Stiles eagerly follows him down into a kiss far sweeter that the last.

 

The last thing Peter hears before succumbing to the dark is a soft but steady “You saved me at your own expense. Just rest and let me take care of you. Everything’s going to be alright.”

 

Peter smiles and believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay...look. which is more plausible? That Stiles keeps lube in his jeep or that he has a tail designed to solve that little problem. Yeah...that's what I thought.


End file.
